Temptation
by Dreamweaver123
Summary: Carlisle struggles with his memories of how he converted the first member of his family into a vampire.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue: Alibi**

It would have been a perfect alibi, really . . . the Spanish influenza; perfect because it had an ounce of truthfulness to it and because there were so many who remembered its gruesome wake.

But while time erased the vividness of the whole ordeal, it did not ease the source of my unrest. I, Carlisle Cullen, who have painstakingly braved the heartache of losing my long-dead family, who have successfully repressed my vampiric cravings for human blood, who have magnanimously saved more human lives than destroyed them, was harboring the most vile of thoughts. I desired the one thing that I should not have had the right to desire and that I should have felt remorse for even thinking it. I desired a son, and not just any son-the son of a dear friend.

I sighed despondently. How has fate teased me so wickedly? The battle between remorse and elation still raged within my conflicted soul.

It would have been a perfect alibi except that the one person it was meant for had an uncanny and inconvenient ability to read minds.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story. They all belong to Stephanie Meyer who produced this intriguing series of books and characters that has captivated so many generations of readers.

**Chapter 1-The Uncomfortable Invitation**

It was the year 1917. I somehow had managed to scrap together the remnants of my life and got a job as a surgeon in a place where anonymity came easily. Ironic . . . that a vampire is working off a lifetime of remorse by living so close to the bane of my existence—blood!

Humans are not as oblivious as most think they are. Though death by hemorrhage was not an impossibility in a big hospital, a high mortality rate would not do well for my reputation, I thought wryly.

Nearly 300 years! 300 years of solitude. Yet, I have not felt lonely. I have slowly learned how to be at peace with myself, with what I am, especially now that my father was no longer with me, expressing his distaste at my being. I felt at ease in my single story home on the ground floor of a semi-decent building at the heart of Chicago. My colleagues worked hard enough to not have time to entertain or be entertained outside of work. It was a . . . platonic relationship, I smiled to myself.

That suited me well. The less attachments, the less melancholy upon departure. I spent most of my time engrossed in learning more about the human body and applied that to my work dutifully. I settled into a rhythm that was safe and soothing. I felt happy for the first time. Perhaps happy was an overstatement. Content is more apt. I was content with my existence, content with the friends I had made, content that I was not a monster. Life was peaceful.

Imagine my surprise, then, when Edward Masen, my surgical partner, invited me to a party of his. It struck me as odd. Edward, head of the cardiovascular department, who was so absorbed in his work he barely conversed with anyone else, had broached me and invited me to one of his gatherings.

"What are we celebrating?" I asked curiously.

Edward laughed, his blue eyes full of unexplained bitterness. "Is there ever a reason to celebrate anything?" he answered dubiously and cryptically.

"Just wanted to be prepared with some good jokes," I smiled eagerly, hoping he would understand my gratitude for being included. I had not attended a party in 300 years.

Edward Masen was a reclusive man who used words quite sparingly. In the few months I was at Cooke Hospital, I had the chance to befriend most everyone. Edward was one that I had not befriended. He created such a barrier, it was difficult to socialize. He was a handsome man, probably in his early forties. He smiled little, but when he did, he certainly made an impression on the opposite gender. Even though the nursing staff spent most of their time trying to draw my attention, Edward held his own, earning him legions of distant admirers.

"Party's being thrown by my wife," he answered, not terribly enthused.

Funny. In the few months that I had been here, I did not know he had been married. He did not wear a wedding band. Certainly the legions of admirers he had had failed to mention this point to me.

"Birthday?" I asked tentatively. It certainly intrigued me. Edward was not a simple man.

Edward laughed incredulously. Despite the sarcasm in his tone, his voice was amazingly silky. "Since her 30th birthday past a while back, any mention of birthdays would result in attempts at my life!" It was oddly entertaining to know that Edward Masen had a sense of humor, even thought it was a little wry. "Carlisle Cullen, you have a lot to learn about women, my friend."

I smiled apologetically. "I can be trained."

Edward's face twisted into what looked like agony. "The Mrs.," he emphasized it like it was taboo, "has been seduced by the Mayor," he smiled crookedly, but his expression once again became solemn. "Rather, she has been seduced by the Mayor's daughter.

I must have looked confused because Edward's expression softened. "The Mayor, or rather his beloved daughter, has taken an invested interest in my son." That didn't sound like something terribly bad. And Edward Masen had a son? I seem to be learning much about Edward in the last 30 seconds.

Edward's face hardened, realizing my confusion. "She wishes to wed him." Again, it seemed innocent enough.

Edward sighed. "I get this feeling like she thinks of him as an entrée. She seems quite ready to devour him."

"Overzealous passion?" I asked, still not comprehending his distaste in the ordeal. Perhaps he truly despised social events. Edward seemed to have given up on explaining to me the difficulties surrounding the event so he simply asked, "Well? Are you in?"

I laughed hesitantly, not really sure whether I should take this step forward. "I'm afraid I would dampen your party." I did not want to move again, not after I have settled so comfortably here. I was counting on their aloofness to remain safely uninvolved.

Edward looked at me intently, which unsettled me. It almost seemed like he was aching to share his thoughts with a confidant, but I knew so little of him and he of me. "It would be nice to keep company with someone I knew," he decided that our interactions up to that point was inadequate. I sighed in relief.

"Are the others not invited?" I asked as an afterthought.

Edward laughed almost bitterly. "I don't really need warm bodies to fill the house." I wanted to laugh at the ironic truth, but held myself admirably. "I just want to converse with someone . . . anyone," he rectified, "who did not have political or monetary ties. I'm not . . . terribly at home in that company."

I must have shown my surprise though my expression was quite schooled. Edward let his head fall defeatedly. The man was miserable-that much I gleaned. "Never mind," he suddenly stated, as if making up his mind. "Sorry for the bother." He started to walk away.

I should have let him walk away without another word. I should have let the silence linger. I know not what compelled me to utter those words that took me down a path I no longer had control over. "It would be an honor, Edward." And with those few words, I had sealed the Masen's fates.

Edward looked back, a smile forming on his usually stoic face. I felt wretched. What had compelled me to be so agreeable?

It was not long after Edward disappeared that a nurse sidled up beside me, excitement in her eyes. "You must be highly regarded in Dr. Masen's eyes," she remarked. "He rarely invites anyone to these social events that his household throws so often!"

I must have looked quite intent as I stared at her. "Oh . . . well . . ." she uttered incomprehensibly.

I smiled soothingly, guilty for disarming her. "I'm not much company when formality is requested of me," I answered truthfully.

The nurse seemed to regain her courage. "Dr. Cullen, you do realize that if you dressed informally, you would not be the only one," her eyes twinkled with unbridled excitement, no doubt this new turn of events a cause for gossip in this hospital.

I turned to her, surprised yet again by her boldness. Again, I must have disarmed her. I smiled once more. "I didn't know Edward dressed otherwise?"

She recovered quickly this time. "No, no. Dr. Masen?" She giggled nervously. "Oh heaven forbid that he dress unprofessionally. No. As much as the man complains about formality, he is a stickler for that primness and propriety. No, I did not mean him."

I nodded patiently as she continued excitedly. She could not have been more than 22 or 23 years old, but she certainly appeared more youthful with this bout of exuberance. The nurse blushed as she relayed the next statement. "Dr. Masen's son, Edward," and she said the name longingly, "has a habit of breaking tradition." She blushed. "Although it does not really matter how informal his dress is." She blushed even rosier as she mumbled the next line. "He looks ravishing in anything."

I had to laugh at her innocent admiration.

She suddenly cringed. "It's a shame that he would be taken soon."

"I wonder how old Edward's son is," I spoke out loud. Edward, senior that is, cannot be that old.

The young nurse shrugged, her golden curls bouncing. "Well," she looked almost embarrassed to acknowledge young Edward's age, "he barely turned 17," she murmured regretfully. I had to look at the youthful nurse with pity. So it seems this young Edward has already been the cause of one heartache.

I must admit that my interest was piqued.

Though formalwear is not my forte, I do not think I want to be sharing the spotlight with Edward junior.

Strange. I have yet to meet this boy (boy indeed since 17 years is but a fleeting moment in time), yet I feel an incomprehensible sympathy for him. Perhaps it springs from the fact that I never see Edward senior leave the hospital to be a convincing enough father figure. Not that I blame the man for he has saved countless lives with his devotion to medicine.

Perhaps it is the thought of immersing an innocent soul into quote unquote high society, muddying it with thoughts of greed and power. I do not doubt Mrs. Masen's love for her son, but I do not believe that wealth and politics are untainted with lies and evil.

Alas, I am but a bystander, I reminded myself. No matter the situation, I must remain passive. I have seen enough carnage and self-destruction to realize that any meddling into others' affairs would be a fruitless endeavor. Whatever the happenings at the Masens' party, I shall watch and only provide verbal companionship for Edward senior.

Besides, I have perfected the art of remaining politely aloof . . . well, I thought I did at that time. Apparently this skill failed in the face of one individual.

As I made to go back to the ward, the youthful nurse called after me hastily. "If you see Edward junior, let him know that the staff misses him dearly. We would not mind seeing him again." I felt sorry for her misguided optimism, but I simply nodded in acknowledgement.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2: The Masens

I stepped out of the horse and carriage, only to be bombarded by the scintillating candles that lit the entryway to the lavish Masen mansion. I smiled at myself for having to feign transportation, but it was a necessary must in my attempt at anonymity. I had to blend in! I admired the beauty of it all. No doubt Edward Masen Senior (I added that last word as an afterthought) married into a prestigious family.

Spring time filled the air with scented flowers. The breeze swept over the beautiful ponds, sending little ripples thoughout. It was a majestic scene. I did not realize that rustic areas like these existed on the outskirts of Chicago.

I tentatively walked down the entryway between two Romanesque pillars that guarded the austere entrance. To my relief, I was not the first one there . . . nor the second. I ran over the lines that would be safe to say in present company without inviting too much interest. Mostly, they were meant for Edward Senior's family. I grew a little nervous at this thought, but had little time to dwell on it as a butler stepped forward to retrieve my coat and hat. I relinquished the two items and was respectfully ushered into the main hall. It was a breathtaking view from the inside as well, with lavish chandeliers and marble statues. I had to admire the meticulous décor. Not only was the mansion itself austere, but the individuals that now crowded it looked to be individuals of importance. I swallowed nervously, hoping that these individuals were not terribly astute when it came to my existence.

Mrs. Masen certainly knew how to throw an elegant party. I suddenly felt more understanding towards Edward Senior's discomfort with this lavish expenditure. And then, I felt her present before I heard her voice.

"Could that be the handsome and incredibly talented Dr. Cullen?" a lyrical voice enunciated from above. So it seems staying in the background was not possible.

I turned towards the voice and smiled at the beautiful redheaded woman that announced my existence. She was quite stunning for a human, with rosy cheeks and a slim figure denoting hours of tedious exercise each day. Her eyes were a friendly shade of blue, but there was a hint of egoism to them . . . or was that confidence? She would have held the adoration of many males and females alike as she slowly descended the spiral staircase in her maroon figure-defining gown.

"You are too patronizing, Mrs. Masen," I answered smoothly. "Please, Carlisle is more than adequate."

She pursed her plump lips, almost puckering them. "Carlisle," she repeated seductively. She was completely different from what I had envisioned. Perhaps they were my own prejudices, but I had imagined her to be much more formal . . . well, proper. "Welcome, Carlisle," she smiled as she held her hand out in greeting.

I graciously accepted, knowing that everyone shuddered at the coldness of my fingers. Surprisingly, Mrs. Masen did not pull her hand away, nor did the frosty feel of my fingers cause any concern or hint of surprise.

"My," she continued," your hands are as cold as Katia's."

"I am so sorry, Mrs. Masen. It must be a result of aging," I apologized earnestly. Judging from the affectionate manner that Mrs. Masen spoke the name, I gathered that Katia was the future daughter-in-law my partner Edward Senior dreaded so much.

"Please call me Elizabeth," the Mrs. smiled brightly, revealing rows of perfectly white teeth. "I am glad you are able to join us for this joyous occasion," she nodded appreciatively. As an afterthought, she added, "and to keep my husband company." Her smile faded a little at that statement, but she quickly beamed again.

"I am glad to be of service," I responded perfectly, showing my pearly whites.

She surprisingly sighed. "Edward, my husband that is, has spoken little of you, perhaps to keep our circles separate, but what little he has said of you was spoken fondly," she spoke solemly.

I was surprised at this abrupt shift in our conversation. I did not really know how to respond so I simply remained silent.

She continued fiercely, "Edward is too simple a man, really. He much prefers medicine and science to societal ventures, so I imagine him comfortable in your company. For that, I am grateful that you have accepted his invitation.

"No, it is truly my pleasure," I answered, suddenly not terribly comfortable with her bluntness, not because I could not handle the words, but because she was being so earnest, her eyes asking for something I did not think I could offer.

Elizabeth Masen continued without hesitation. "You do know the purpose of today's event?"

"I believe to celebrate the bonding between your son, Edward Junior, and the Mayor's daughter," I answered simply, her forwardness not a good indicator of how this evening will end.

"Engagement," Elizabeth Masen corrected quickly. She smiled wistfully, "to Katia," she acknowledged. I thought Katia a strange, not too-American name, but held my tongue.

"Congratulations, Elizabeth," I smiled thoughtfully, but she did not reciprocate that.

"Edward, my husband, does not believe this to be a . . . fruitful union. He thinks Katia is too . . . passionate, but his fears are misplaced. Katia adores Edward, my son, and only desires his happiness. You hopefully will get the chance to truly meet her and see for yourself," she looked into my eyes, perhaps searching for approval.

"I am pretty sure she is a lovely young woman," I nodded, suddenly wishing that my partner could end this uncomfortable exchange.

Elizabeth Masen was persistent. "So I hope that you will not add to his . . . delusions . . . maybe that's too strong a word . . . convictions! You won't strengthen his convictions about Katia. Our children will have to one day have their own families. If he feels he hasn't had enough time with his son, perhaps he could work less at the hospital to make time?!" She whispered the last line, and suddenly, I saw the misery in those clear blue eyes, the longing for Edward Senior's presence at home, the conflict between a world that she was born into and a man she loved so dearly. I felt sorry for her, but did not want to show too much sympathy.

I smiled soothingly, instead. "Believe it or not, Elizabeth, I am here for mindless banter. Edward Senior has spoken little of this celebration, but mostly because he is a man of few words."

She gazed at me, trying to gauge my sincerity, but everything I said was true. I had no plans to sway Edward Senior and I doubt he was interested in going into more details about the whole ordeal.

Somewhat dissatisfied with my response, she gave up any further attempts to enlist my aid in her endeavors. "Should I take you straight to my husband then? I doubt he will make an appearance without you by his side. Otherwise, he would not have an excuse to ignore present company." She smiled once more, this time in earnest. There was no inkling of a doubt that she loved her husband and that she did not mind his attempts to avoid the crowd she grew up with.

"My sincere thanks," I responded as she led me up the staircase. It was a breathtaking architectural masterpiece, I had to admit. We wove through countless corridors and passed multiple rooms until I was sure I could not find my way back.

Then I heard it. It was the most lovely sound I had heard in a long while. The notes were lyrical and soothing, yet passionate with a hint of melancholy. It was a song that reached my heart and sent sparks throughout my lifeless body. It could have started the blood flowing again.

I paused in our trek to follow the sound of the ivory keys to a nearby grand room with a concert piano. There, sitting intently on the bench, was a beautiful young boy with bronze-colored hair and eyes that were the color of the lush waters of the Mediterranean.

I had no doubt in my mind once more of who this was since he shared features from both his mother and father, only in a more ethereal way. If I was a female, I would have been bewitched. But I was not a female. Nor was I human. His scent was intoxicating, like ambrosia. I had to stiffen my muscles not to allow my body to come any closer. Otherwise, I did not think I could resist the powerful urge to drink his blood, no doubt the taste of vintage wine, if I were still human.

No, I screamed to myself. 'Abstinence is mine!' I shouted over and over in my mind. Oh, how cruel can fate be? All these 300 years, I thought that I was strong to resist human blood, but only now have I been presented with such nectar that currently sits before me. I clenched my teeth.

The music decrescendoed to a soft lull as the young Edward ended the song like a virtuoso. Though the sound of the piano was silenced, the magic still lingered until the sudden sound of Elizabeth Masen's voice broke it.

"Edward?" her voice called out tentatively, causing the young boy to turn his head towards my direction, eyes intense with curiosity.

He stood up, graceful for a human. The he walked towards me, face solemn and perhaps even conflicted, yet still mustering up a small and crooked smile.

"You must have lost another visitor, mother," the young Edward chuckled, innocent but also laden with an emotion I could not grasp. He continued towards me, stopping a couple of feet away. "Hello," he welcomed, eyes full of kindness.

I had to give myself a few moments to collect my thoughts as his strong scent wafted before my nose.

"Carlisle," I finally offered as he remained a few feet away from me, almost respecting my desire not to be too near him.

Elizabeth's voice once again broke through my concentration. "Would you take Dr. Cullen to your father, Edward?"

That thought unsettled me as I wondered if I could control my appetite being alone with him. I did not know if I was being too conscientious, but Edward Junior seemed to gaze at me with intense curiosity.

"Yes, mother," he answered smoothly. If he would have known how dangerous this feat was, would he still have agreed? The room was silent once Elizabeth's footsteps disappeared behind the door. I was fearful of looking into his face. There was a vulnerability there that unsettled me, certainly reminding me that perhaps he was too young to wed.

His arm extended, inviting me out of the music room. I nodded politely, but waited for him to lead the way. I would be mercifully happy once this party ended. I now regret agreeing to Edward Senior's invitation. Now I must bear this until I can hide in the comfort of my home once more.

I tried not to look upon his face for it was a handsome, intriguing face, so I kept my eyes down. Therefore, I did not fail to miss the fact that he favored his left leg though he tried painstakingly to hide it.

"That was a beautiful piece," I spoke, surprising myself at my feeble attempt at futile conversation. The words, though, were spoken in earnest.

He laughed softly, much more mature than his age would suggest. "Liszt."

It was strange, but I got this sense he knew I wanted to remain aloof and uninvolved for he spoke no further during the walk.

We finally ended up in front of an austere-looking library with Edward Senior sitting at his desk. The father acknowledged our presence solemnly. He seemed a little . . . detached in Edward Junior's presence, which for some reason saddened me.

"Carlisle," Edward Senior nodded towards me.

"Good evening," I responded, again disturbed by his nonchalance to his son. Perhaps I spoke too hastily, for at that moment, Edward Senior accidentally dropped the ball he was holding, as if he had a break in concentration.

The young Edward bent over to pick the ball up, again tilting to his left side. He gently placed the ball back on the desk. "Father," he spoke softly, "I will have John bring the drinks here for you and Dr. Cullen to enjoy."

"No," Edward Senior started suddenly, surprising the son. "We will be down shortly, Edward."

Edward Junior's face seemed to soften. "The party has only begun."

Edward Senior's face, too, softened at that remark. "We will be down shortly. After all, this is an important day for you."

Young Edward seemed perturbed, but acquiesced. "Yes, father."

Funny, but it was as if young Edward was disappointed with his father's decision. It was a family dynamic that was fascinating to me. Edward junior stepped away.

Once alone with Edward Senior, I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable once more. "Your son is quite an accomplished pianist," I tried to start the conversation.

"Yes? But I doubt that that is what Katia pays attention to when she is with him," he responded bluntly, disturbingly.

"He has many attributes," I answered unsurely.

Edward Sr sighed defeatedly. "I apologize, Carlisle. That is a little forward of me. To be honest, it is my son's decision after all. He is an accomplished individual who can take care of himself. I just wish . . . well . . . that I paid attention to him a little more. He has grown up so fast."

"Children have a knack of doing that," I smiled affirmingly, although never having had a child myself, I thought ironically.

"Sometimes, I feel that he knows much more about me than I know him," Edward Sr acknowledged painstakingly.

Funny, I felt the same way moments ago.

"Well, I am glad you came, Carlisle," Edward Sr broke out of his solemn mood and managed a bittersweet smile. "We should participate in the festivities before my wife gets more ideas about my obvious discontent."

I smiled warmly, realizing the truth behind that statement. I held my tongue this time, a small victory, but a major feat in and of itself. Great. If I can just keep this up, I could perhaps not dread this party as much. Hopefully, with Edward Sr immersed in the public, I would not have to respond to those painfully honest moments between just the two of us . . . and hopefully, Edward Jr's scent would be overshadowed by the mass of people downstairs. Unfortunately for me, though, Edward Junior's scent was truly like vintage wine. It got more savory with time.

The main hall was packed with people when Edward Sr and I made our appearance. Thankfully, we remained almost anonymous amongst the crowd of important political and wealthy figures. Every now and then, someone would congratulate Edward Sr on having such an accomplished son or express regret that Edward Jr was marrying someone other than their daughter. If I had not met Edward Jr, I would have passed those remarks for false, but having met the young, handsome boy, I saw the truthfulness behind those words. And while most conversations never strayed from Edward Jr, the boy himself remained quiet, unassuming and hidden.

The myriad of conversations that filled the hall, after an hour, became background noise—uninteresting to the nth degree. I was starting to understand Edward Sr's pain when all of a sudden, I sensed a subtle difference in the company we kept. A wave of dread washed through me as I recognized this feeling. I was no longer alone in this hall. There was another vampire! Actually, there were 3!

I stopped, my senses suddenly heightened to figure out where these vampires were entering from! I suddenly felt scared for the first time in over 2 centuries. I was not afraid for my life, of course. I was afraid of being exposed!

I looked around frantically, trying very hard to remain subtle. The scent came from the main entrance. At that moment, applause raged through the hallways as the attendees of the party seemed to welcome the latest addition to the mix. Then my jaw dropped as I heard Mrs. Masen's sultry voice announce the arrival of the Mayor's family.

My heart nearly started again for the second time that night. Could the stars be even less aligned!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3-Katia

To human eyes, Katia could be described as exquisite. Her demure, yet confident air was intriguing. Her movements were graceful and elegant. Any parent would be proud to call her their daughter, and it was no wonder Elizabeth Masen was no exception to her charms.

Katia carried herself with utmost poise, making her an exceptionally worthy partner for young Edward Jr, but yet, there was one fascinating detail about her that disturbed me—she was a vampire!

No doubt her age surpassed Edward Jr by at least half a decade in appearance, likely centuries in actual time. I tried to retain my composure at the thought of this inequality, my deepest concerns for the young and innocent Edward Jr, who I now realize stood no chance against his immortal fiancée, both physically and mentally. She was well his superior in strength and mental maturity.

Why then, did she choose to draw him so close to our world? If it was his blood she was after, then it would have been simple enough to lure him into a dark ally and take him without much effort. And though I felt ashamed for even conjuring up such a plan, I could not help but wonder if I had the strength to resist executing it myself. Again, the memories of Edward Junior's scent bombarded my mind. It took much strength to resist this temptation and focus once more on Katia.

With indubitable confidence, Katia's eyes scanned the scene and suddenly rested on me, her superior air shaken, if only for one moment, by my existence as she recognized my true nature. It was then that I realized all thoughts of blending into the crowd and anonymity gone. Our eyes locked in an uncomfortable silent confrontation, each gauging the other's motive with unnerving frustration.

I was pleasantly surprised to see the same honey-colored eyes that I owned. Any human male would likely be held captive by those mesmerizing eyes, but I only stifled an unassuming sigh. Katia was no mere immortal. She was ancient, perhaps as old as I, maybe older. Her restraint around humans came as easily to her as it was to me, but I could not help but feel that the cause for restraint was different. I once again thought of Edward Junior and his unfortunate predicament.

A sound of throat-clearing knocked me out of my uncomfortable ocular duel. "I see Katia has picked us out of the crowd," Edward Senior stated regrettably. A sudden wave of dread flooded through me as Katia approached us despite the fact that her movements were neither predatory nor malicious.

She smiled almost maternally, baring her white teeth. "Good evening, gentlemen," she addressed us with an air of amusement. "The party is spectacular." Her voice was proud and regal, with a charming mix of Brittish and Russian overtones, making her origins quite mysterious.

"Good evening, Katia," Edward Masen Senior greeted with poorly veiled contempt. Katia seemed not to mind as she switched her focus from Edward Senior to me. I forced myself to meet her gaze.

Katia smiled more widely. "You must be Dr. Carlisle Cullen. I have heard so much about your kindness and expertise in medicine. Please do not take this the wrong way, but I hope not to require your medical expertise until I grow old, at which point I most likely would refuse." Again, she showed her pearly whites.

Surprising even myself, I chuckled. "I'm pretty sure that you will remain as beautiful and as healthy until the end of time," I responded easily with a private humor only meant for her.

Katia laughed wholeheartedly, an honest laugh meant for two immortals. I wonder why I had never heard about her from the Volturi. She had to be their equal, judging from her composure and bearing. "It would be such a pleasure to have a nice conversation with you over dinner tonight, Dr. Cullen. Alas, I must find my fiancée to make sure he isn't lost in this crowd."

The word 'fiancee' shocked me out of my amusement. It reminded me of the disturbing nature of this event. Edward Junior was merely a boy, maybe a young man at best. What was Katia, an ancient immortal, doing, dealing such a hand to this boy's fate? What interest did she have, invested in him? My mind raced, trying to make sense of this ordeal, and when I had finally broken out of my pensiveness, Katia was gone to find Edward Junior.

Now I suddenly see how wise Edward Senior was in his uncertainty . . . and how blind Elizabeth Masen was to hand over their child to this ancient vampire. I was drawn to this enigma, and ashamedly, I wanted to know more, to understand the forces that drove each character, to know where the momentum would take them. And I was curious to know what it was about Edward Junior that had Katia, an ancient vampire, so drawn to him.

I now looked to Edward Senior, who seemed to have a frown plastered to his face, and I saw the worry etched into his premature wrinkles. He made a weak attempt at a smile and carried on. "She is . . ." Edward Senior tried so hard to remain prim and proper, "mature for her age," Edward spoke painfully.

I felt the truthful undertones of that statement. If only Edward Senior realize that Katia's 'maturity was probably many more hundreds of years over his estimate. I nodded, unsure how to answer his subconscious and unspoken pleas for help.

"She is a woman," I finally agreed. As I turned to scan the crowds, I saw Katia pick out Edward Junior easily from the crowds, no doubt his scent strong to her as it was to me. From the periphery of my vision, I watched as she clasped his hand in hers, pulled him towards her with overt affection, and planted a firm kiss on his neck. My body froze, unable to comprehend how she could be so close to his jugular and not drink what he unknowingly offered. But she withheld admirably, pulling away with unexplainable ease.

"She might as well take him to the bedroom," Edward Senior muttered in disgust, his pitch too low for human ears to discern. His hostility was so much more palpable than before.

After a few more agonizing introductions, the attendees were asked to be seated for dinner. I had the distinct honor of sitting at the main table with the Masens on one side and Katia's family on the other.

I waited patiently to be seated, my anxiety never before escalating to such an uncomfortable level. It felt odd sitting at a table with three other vampires, strangers despite our similarities. Unfortunately, there was no way to excuse myself without causing alarm, nor did I want to excuse myself. I was eager, for some strange reason, to see Edward Junior safe and untouched, though I realize it a ludicrous suspicion that Katia would hurt him in public.

Elizabeth Masen was the first to arrive at our table after Edward Senior and I. The husband and wife exchanged awkward glances as each measured the other's discontent at their attitudes that night. Their silence baffled me as I stood to the side, hoping dinner to end as peacefully as ever.

Soon to follow was the Mayor and his wife, both slender and graceful in their bearings with a hint of arrogance. Both looked handsome and unmistakably for me, immortal.

"Ah, Dr. Cullen," the Mayor nodded approvingly in my direction, no doubt all the more civil once he noted my vampiric origins. "How nice to finally meet you." He smiled paternally and patted my back. However, the motion was not entirely friendly as he squeezed my arm a little excessively. No. I'd say that there was an edge of menace to his actions, though his eyes revealed no hint of threat.

I struggled fruitlessly to figure out his real relationship to Katia, but since I knew so little of them, it was nearly impossible. The Mayor's wife seemed less intense, but her look of boredom alarmed me somewhat. She reminded me of a repressed teenager waiting to escape the confines of her home to wreak havoc on the streets. Her fiery red hair was a stark contrast to her husband's honey blond. Her eyes bore a touch of insanity and at that moment, I questioned her moral integrity. I could not discern, however, whether I should be more afraid of her or of the other two.

Finally, Katia's bold laugh announced the arrival of the couple. Edward Junior remained silent as Katia pulled him to an empty seat across from me, sandwiched between herself and her 'parents'. I would have been amused at the seating arrangement if the situation was not quite so grave. Edward Junior sat in the seat, seeming completely oblivious to his compromised situation . . . or was he? He suddenly gazed at me, his green eyes without any hint of the curiosity, wonder and compassion he had shown me earlier.

The stark contrast in his mannerisms shocked me. Though he did not appear ill at ease in present company, he neither looked like he belonged. He looked too serious for his sixteen or seventeen years, yet his face and body exuded a composure that was uncommon for someone his age. I looked into his handsome face only to be rebuked by a look of fearlessness. His sea green eyes kept their focus on me, and I saw neither a plea for help nor any sign of resignation. His look was, while astute, not calculating. He had a look of such pure innocence, it tore at my heart.

Alas, the room was called to silence as Elizabeth Masen tapped her spoon against her wineglass. The room immediately quieted in anticipation. Edward Masen Senior looked paler than before. The Mayor's eyes narrowed infinitesimally. His wife's eyes sparked surprisingly with mischief. Katia appeared content.

"To the young couple . . . " Elizabeth Masen announced with utmost pride. "May they enjoy a wonderful life together forever."

I looked to Edward Junior's face last. Such a fascinoma. His face, while absurdly handsome, was totally unreadable. It was then that I had the greatest urge to take him under my wing and shelter him from his precarious situation. How I longed then to reach out to him, to stroke that pure and innocent face, and whisper to him as I would a child that everything would be fine.


End file.
